Peach Flavored Dreams
by Owl-songs
Summary: Peaches, much like pomegranates, can have consequences. Though Sarah has traveled through dangers untold and hardships innumerable, has she really escaped unscathed? And will Jareth really let her go so easily? A continuance of papersoul's original fic.
1. A Sadistic Fairy's Table

Peach Flavored Dreams

Chapter One: A Sadistic Fairy's Table

Black and white.

Like old noir films, newspapers, and zebras: a medley of colors that weren't _technically _colors at all.

For as long as she could remember, her dreams had been vague and colorless, like reflections in a midnight pool. They left her filled with half-formed thoughts, and were ultimately unsatisfying.

Why was she, who had so much imagination in her waking life, doomed to dream an endless monochrome monotony?

Sarah Williams snorted as she sat up, twisting her torso to give her frilly-lace pillow a hearty punch.

"Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it," she muttered as she settled back against the soft head rest, her tone and expression those of one who knew firsthand the truth of the saying.

Ever since the Labyrinth…

So much had changed on that stormy night. In less than thirteen hours she'd had her world turned upside-down, gone through the fire and come back impossibly changed.

Toby was no longer an annoyance, he was the most precious thing in her world. Babysitting him was a pleasure now. They shared a secret, the two of them were the only ones in the household - if not the world - to have faced the Labyrinth and come back… relatively unscathed.

Sarah knew and recognized that she was not the only one who had been changed by her experiences. Her little brother was no longer your average toddler. Going into that magical realm he had crawled; now he could run. When she spoke, he listened, not just to the tone and sound of her voice, but to what she _said_.

He was her closest confidant, and if, on occasion, a tilt of the head or a gleam of amusement appeared similar to… someone else, well, that was to be expected, wasn't it? _He_ had had hours in which to prepare Toby for what was assumed to be his future life, as goblin or some other manner of subject.

She herself had been altered, her world held more magic for her than ever before. The constancy and reliability that made her home and existence so pleasant was no longer to be taken for granted. She woke up every day, grateful that her bed was still facing the southern wall and positively joyous that the sun had risen in the east again.

Her everyday humdrum world was to be _savored_! Not disparaged because it did not hold quite as many adventures and surprises as were depicted in her books. First-hand experience guided her daydreams now, and it knew that adventures were dangerous, leading to loss and changes so drastic that what had once been became almost unrecognizable.

That was not to say that she did not recognize her former self, her former existence as Sarah-the-Dramatic-Brat. She did, most definitely, and she winced in shame at every reminder she had of how she used to be and what she used to do and say. Her schoolwork was finished on time now, no more, "The fairies spirited me away for a late-night revel," excuses for her!

Relations between Karen and her were more level now, too. Though Sarah doubted she would ever see eye-to-eye with the neurotic woman, she was now making an effort to recognize and adapt to the changes having Karen around required. The appreciative looks her father gave her for every almost-argument that passed them by was like salt in an open wound.

Had she really been that bad? Had she really been _so _unreasonable?

The answer, unfortunately, was an emphatic _yes_.

So, Sarah could find it in her heart to thank _him _for teaching her a valuable lesson, life was not fair, but it was most definitely precious. To be kept and guarded and not squandered with foolish wishes which were not at _all _thought out! _He_ had taught her that through life's most exacting and strict lesson: experience. She was… grateful, not that she would ever let _him_ know that.

It had been exactly two months since her foray into the land of myth and magic that housed the Labyrinth. She had made friends and had adventures. The quest she was happy to have behind her, but the friends she was delighted to keep.

Hoggle, though gruff and often stoic, was surprisingly good at things like Geometry, and was in fact, more than partially responsible for her rise from C to A in that class. Sir Didymus had a dry wit that never failed to make her laugh at the exploits and trials of her latest day. Last but not least was Ludo, the loveable dog-like giant of a beast that could sum up even the most impossible situation and put it in perspective with three words or less.

It was hard to gripe about high school girls and their backstabbing when you were brushing the fur of an ogre-like creature who was positively purring, "Sawah fwiend!"

All in all, the Labyrinth had left her a better, happier, more well-adjusted person.

Sarah's lips quirked in amusement at her own little mental summation of her trip. Sighing, she turned and glanced at the red numbers prominently displayed on her bedside alarm clock… 2:33 A.M.

If she followed the pattern of the last few weeks, she would not be able to sleep until 4:00, or possibly later. Vivid, colorful dreams had been haunting her sleep and disturbing her unconscious mind since the one-month anniversary of her trip to the Labyrinth.

They could not rightly be called 'nightmares,' though that was the word that jumped to mind when they first started. From the first, the content of the dreams had left her oddly unsettled, with too much energy and an inability to concentrate for hours after waking. Last week she had taken to running, exploring the neighborhood for an hour before school each day, trying to relieve the relentless desire for movement that dogged her brain and made her legs twitch.

What troubled her most was the sense that something was _happening _as she slept, that there were… things she should remember. Yet every day she woke, recalling nothing but a few bursts of violent color, images that stayed burned on the backs of her eyelids until she scraped them off onto the canvasses that decorated her art room.

Mr. Graham, the art teacher, had never been so thrilled with her before. His compliments were profuse, and he desperately wanted to enter her in some of the local competitions held at the end of the school year. Something in Sarah held her back though, she did not feel that these were meant to be put on display, somehow. They were too… personal. They were hers in a way that nothing she'd ever painted or drawn had been hers before.

It felt like she had put pieces of her soul onto those canvasses.

As Sarah thought and sighed, fantasizing about the sleep that eluded her, a thin film seemed to cover her eyes. Slowly her lashes flickered gently against her cheeks, until at last her eyes were closed, a few seconds later smooth deep breathing signified sleep as she drifted into dreamland…

School the next day saw Sarah yawning and fighting to stay awake. Teachers that had lately begun to look at the dark-haired girl with the affection reserved for those brightest of students now looked on her with concern as they watched, day by day, the dark circles under her green-gray eyes grow larger and more pronounced.

Art class was the first of her courses that received a fully awake - or at least mildly aware - Sarah Williams. The images from last night were the most vivid yet, and she positively ached to set them down on canvass.

The next thirty-three minutes were a whirl of paint slapped down and splattered, a bold mixture of red-white-orange against a background made up of muddy purple-green-browns.

When at last she came up out of her trance she studied her work for a full ten minutes. A troubled expression dominated her face, her gaze flickering from left to right and top to bottom as if to deny what she saw so very clearly.

It was the Firey Forest, and it was the first thing she had recognized in her paintings thus far. In fact, her green-gray eyes widened perceptibly as the half-formed leaves in the painting stirred a little, as if in some unseen wind -

"Sarah?"

She jumped and spun, and if she'd had any training her hands would have been up and ready to defend against the possible threat. But because she was Sarah Williams, a relatively average girl despite all Labyrinthine evidence to the contrary, she merely crouched, taking on the countenance of a wild animal in her fright.

"Easy," Mr. Graham muttered, "I just wanted to ask, are you alright?"

Sarah laughed guiltily and stood, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, oblivious to the green paint that stained her fingers, and now her hair, "Yeah, I'm fine, sorry."

"It's quite alright," he smiled and looked past to her newly-finished work, "This is amazing, Sarah." He stepped around her to study the canvass more closely, "I'd say it's your best work yet, why, you can almost see the trees moving! And those… creatures in the foreground, why they're marvelous!" He looked at her with wondering eyes, "Where on earth do you get your inspiration?"

Her fingers twisted nervously in her smock, "Sometimes real life, sometimes fantasy, sometimes dreams." She reached out and flicked a piece of debris away from the edge of the painting, "This was something I dreamed last night."

A new voice spoke out quietly, "You have a wonderful imagination."

Sarah flushed under the scrutiny of Rob Hogan, hunk and all-around Mr. Mysterious of the school. "Thank you," she murmured, looking everywhere except at his face. Even in her worst brat-days pre-Labyrinth, she'd never entertained the hope that Rob would notice her, let alone speak to her!

Of course, caught up in the insecurities that hounded every teenager, Sarah could not know that while she believed herself to be below most boys' notice, they thought of her quite differently. Her quiet beauty drew them in and her dreamy smile made many wonder what it would take to focus her attention on the real world, and more specifically _them_, for a short while. She seemed both fleeting and timeless. An almost palpable aura of freedom surrounded her, saying almost clear as words that she was above the petty concerns that consumed most of their time.

Mr. Graham smirked a bit, recognizing a teenage drama in the making, and hurriedly left them to it. Hormones were things better left to those who still had the energy to deal with them.

Rob moved forward a little to inspect her work, "It's… different."

"Different good or different bad?"

He reached out and traced his fingers lightly over the surface of one of the Fireys, almost but not quite touching the surface, "Different… wild, it looks like a forest that Man does not know."

"Man knows this forest, but he really wishes he didn't," Sarah muttered under breath.

Rob shot her a blinding smile, "How do you come up with this kind of thing?"

"Oh, you know, the usual inspirations…" Class was about to end, she noted absently, and began to gather up her supplies while she spoke.

Mr. Mysterious followed her as she tidied up, "I'd really like to pick your brain sometime. Would you like to go get lunch, or see a movie on some Saturday? Say, tomorrow?"

Sarah stood bolt upright, a slow flush suffusing her face, "Me?" She coughed slightly before stammering in a slightly-less squeaky tone, "Um, yeah, sure, I guess-"

The bell rang and he grabbed his bag, "Great, well it's settled then, I'll see you tomorrow," he flashed her one last brilliant smile before leaving one rather flabbergasted teenage girl behind.

Date. She was going on a _date_. A _date_ with _Rob Hogan_.

"Breathe, Sarah, breathe…" she fanned herself with one hand while trying to apply blusher with the other. Rob was due to pick her up in a little less than twenty minutes, and with each passing second she could feel her nervousness growing, rising up her throat like bile.

She braced her hands on the vanity and stared at her reflection before picking up the concealer yet _again_. Even with what felt like a gallon of the stuff under each eye, there was still a bit of purple skin showing through.

A few dabs with the swab later and she gave it up as a lost cause, sitting down to wait with a good book. Though 'The Chronicles of Prydain' was one of her favorite series, it held no appeal as she kept glancing at the clock, watching the minutes tick past as she waited.

And waited…

And waited…

He was now twenty minutes late and counting. This was unprecedented, Sarah had gone out a few times before, but none of her dates had ever been _late._

DING-DONG.

Sarah heard Karen open the door and usher Rob inside, "Sarah! You're date's here!"

She slowly descended the stairs, still a little annoyed that he had been -

"I'm so sorry," he smiled apologetically, "Traffic was awful, there was an accident on Main."

Instantly her annoyance transformed into concern, "Was anyone hurt?"

"I don't think so, I didn't see any ambulances." He held out an arm, "Shall we go?"

_**Five-and-a-Half Hours Later...**_

Sarah studied herself in her vanity mirror with a look of mixed horror and amusement. Her once-pristine yellow sweater and khakis ensemble was now coated in an awful mixture of juice and some other unrecognizable stains.

And everything was topped with a nice healthy dollop of pure summer rain.

Teeth chattering she stripped and dashed across the hall for a quick shower, thanking the fates that had seen fit to send her father, Karen, and Toby to the newest exhibit at the museum.

The hot water was soothing, and soon she began to feel human again. As her chill decreased the hilarity increased until she was crouched against the wall of the shower laughing like a hyena as her shampoo ran down the drain.

And if her laughter was interspersed with a few tears…. well, she _had _just experienced the 'Date from Hell.'

Dressing in a worn-out pair of sweatpants and a comfortably ragged t-shirt, she made herself some hot chocolate and propped herself up on her window seat.

The rain pouring down outside was positively torrential, so much so that the windows didn't even have water-tracks across their surfaces, they were one big sheet of wetness. The water pounded against the house, the violent noise calming to Sarah's jangled nerves.

From the moment she'd stepped out the door with Rob, it had been one thing after another.

First there was the movie, every seat was sold out.

Lunch wasn't too much better, and she _still _wasn't quite sure how that fight had broken out…

Then came the positively _satanic _traffic. The cap to an already wonderful time, three hours spent in an enclosed space with someone towards whom she had onceharbored romantic feelings for.

"Well, I'm cured of that now," Sarah murmured bitterly, "I'm not gonna date again until I'm thirty!"

"Glad to hear it," came a cool, cultured, and shockingly recognizable voice from behind and just to the left of where she sat.

She spun, mouth a small 'o' of shock as she came face to face with _him_. Her mouth worked soundlessly, and eventually found the words to demand, "What are you doing here?"

His eyes were blank, a small smile curled up the corners of his sensual mouth, but that was his 'normal' expression, it told Sarah nothing. He lounged against one of the posts on her bed, leaning nonchalantly against the space that was meant to be a refuge, a relaxation point.

Sarah felt a lot of things when she was around him, but 'relaxed' definitely wasn't on the list.

A crystal appeared in one of his gloved hands and he let it crawl over his fingers like a caterpillar, dipping and gliding in a dizzying manner. It came to rest in his palm and instantly his hand shut like a vise around it as his gaze came to rest back on her face.

She gulped at the violence she could see tethered there.

"Are you familiar, Sarah, with the Greek myth of Hades and Persephone?" he asked, his tone seeming almost idle.

"Yes," she whispered, mesmerized by his eyes so intent and intense on her face… Shaking herself she continued in a stronger tone, "What does that have to do with anything?"

His posture against the bedpost was suddenly no longer relaxed, instead he seemed almost like a cat about to pounce on a rather fat and exceedingly stupid mouse. His next words came out almost like a caress, and Sarah shivered at the minute breeze they caused against her skin.

"Everything."

"Cryptic, as usual," Sarah huffed, trying to regain some composure.

"Obtuse, as usual," he returned, standing upright and crossing to her vanity. He examined the toys that collected there.

Sarah pressed herself farther back against the wall as he passed her, letting out a breath she had not known she was holding once he reached a 'safe' distance. Of course, with him, the safest distance was not one measured in feet, but rather in magical barriers…

Which reminded her: "You have no power over me."

He glanced at her over his shoulder, amused, before returning to his perusal of her things, "Correction: I have no power over you except that which you _allow _me to have."

"And what does that mean, exactly?"

He turned to face her again, and Sarah saw yet another crystal dancing on his fingertips, "It means that magic, my dear Sarah, has a mind of its own, and even the most experienced of practitioners are sometimes caught off guard by its… desires."

Here, at last, was something she could address with certainty. She all but spat her words, "I am not 'your dear Sarah!' I'm not your dear anything!"

A fierce expression crossed his features before he smoothed them back into their typical amused mien, "Are you sure of that, Sarah?"

She wished desperately that he'd stop saying her name, it came out… somehow _wrong_ when he used it. Sounding as if he knew her intimately, better than she knew even herself.

"Why are you here?"

He settled himself against the vanity, the crystal picking up speed until it was barely a flash of sparkling glass across his hands, arms, and sometimes even shoulders. "I've found that I do not like others touching what is mine," he said, frowning a little, a slight puckering of his smooth, pale brow.

"You're jealous?" Sarah squawked in surprise, "Of what, and why? You don't own anything up here!"

That small smile was back, curling his lips just the tiniest of bits, and giving him a much more sinister air, to Sarah's way of thinking. "Don't I?" He mocked, flicking his wrist and beginning to play with the crystal like a yo-yo.

"No, you don't," she stubbornly defended, "You have no power over me."

Exasperation touched his features, "You say that so often, Sarah, I begin to wonder if you really know what it means." He shifted, making himself more comfortable and took on a slightly mocking, lecturing tone, "To have power over someone doesn't just mean _ownership_, it means allegiance, duty, or…" His face became stony, "Emotion."

Sarah stirred slightly, her mind flashing back to that night among the broken stairs of the ruined tower-room. She had denied all ties with him, so what? Then why was he here?

"Duty, allegiance… emotion," he answered the question she hadn't realized she'd spoken.

"That doesn't really tell me anything," she grumbled.

He changed topics lightning-fast, "Been having any strange dreams of late, Sarah? Anything happen that was a bit… unusual?" When it became obvious that she was not going to answer, he stood and began to pace. "Bursts of creativity, perhaps?"

"My paintings?"

"Yes, that would be a good conduit, I suppose," he snapped his fingers and suddenly there they all were, everything she had painted since coming back from the Labyrinth. There were almost thirty canvasses of various sizes leaning against the walls and surfaces of her room. He reached out and one floated to him: it was her latest, the one of the Firey Forest.

Sarah watched in shock as he abruptly thrust his hand through the fabric, "What are you do-" She gasped, though she had clearly seen his hand enter the painting, it had not come out the other side.

He smirked and drew his hand back out, drawing, to her surprise, a handful of leaves with it. Setting the painting down he lifted the leaves until they were at face-level and blew them towards her. They floated like they were no heavier than feathers, raining down over her head and shoulders and surrounding her with the warm, burning smell of the Firey's Forest: earth and smoke and rotting plant matter, all spiced with a faint scent that she associated with magic. After all, Jareth positively reeked of it.

"What did you do to it?" She asked, rising, for the first time since he had entered her room, and crossing towards him to pick up the discarded canvass. There was no hole, nothing to indicate that he had damaged her work in any way, and still when she turned to look at him, her eyes were accusatory.

"I? I did nothing, Sarah, it was all you."

"All me? I didn't do anything to it! I just painted it!"

"You _created _it, Sarah. You made a doorway between Earth and Faerie. You called to me, and I answered." He turned her and forced her head up, making her look him in the eye as he scanned her features slowly with his mismatched eyes, "And what do I find, my Sarah?" His hand skimmed down her form, almost touching but not quite, "I find that my pretty little innocent mortal… is no longer as mundane as she used to be."

She wrenched from his grasp, eyes fearful at the triumphant gleam that had entered his eyes, "What are you talking about?"

He was back to being the predator, eyes hooded and watchful like some great jungle cat as he smiled lazily, "Merely that all citizens of the Labyrinth owe their allegiance to _me_. They are,in effect, _mine_." His hand clamped tightly around her wrist and drew her forward, "_You _are, in effect, _mine_."

She twisted her arm in his grasp, but this time he held firm, "What are you talking about?"

"Consequences, my dear, consequences." His smile became almost whimsical. "Who would have thought so simple a thing as a peach and a dream…" He shook his head, "But no matter, the means is unimportant, the ends though…" The grin that spread his lips was positively shark-like, "Well, as they say, the devil is in the details."

"You'd know all about that," Sarah spat coldly.

His thumb began to gently stroke along her pulse point, a disturbing contrast against his firm grip. "Yes, I do believe I would," he stepped back abruptly, leaving Sarah confused, angry, and though she would vehemently deny it: the slightest bit bereft.

She rubbed at her wrist unconsciously, trying to understand the situation she'd found herself in. She now knew _why _he'd come, he felt her make that whatever-it-was with her painting. Why, though, did he believe that it made her owe some sort of… fealty to him?

"Only the Sidhe can make doorways between worlds, and only someone directly keyed into the Labyrinth… or myself, can open a door into my realm," he continued, unconsciously answering her query.

Sarah's eyes widened and her mouth gaped open and shut soundlessly, leaving her looking like a fish, albeit an attractive one. "What? But I'm not a fairy! I'm a mortal girl! How could I become a - a - a whatever-it-is you are?" She gestured wildly.

He leaned in as if to impart some delicious secret, "You have eaten of the food of the fairy-folk, no mortal can do that and remain unchanged."

"Wha - the peach! That peach you gave me!" She glared at him accusingly, placing an alarmed hand to her stomach, "What is it doing to me?"

The crystal was back, and he was toying with it again in a deceptively innocent manner, one would never have guessed that he'd just dropped the bombshell of all bombshells into Sarah's lap.

"The food of my people can have numerous effects on your kind. It can awaken creativity, a spark of genius that will change the world. It can elongate life, so that the man who eats it watches as all he loved wither and die while he stays in his prime. It can shorten life, so that the mortal is but a mayfly to even your people's limited span…" He smirked here. "I must admit that in some of my… darker moments I hoped that that would be your fate, but this…" He closed his eyes and gave an exaggerated shiver, opening the mismatched orbs again to pin her with an unrecognizable expression, "This is so much sweeter."

"What's going to happen to me?" Sarah whispered, eyes wide as she clutched her arms as if to offer herself some of the support she desperately needed.

"Our food has two other, much rarer effects. If the mortal who imbibes is singularly un-magical, lacking both imagination and creativity to such a degree that even our _food _cannot bear it…" He smiled, "Why, it turns them into a goblin, or some other lesser sprite, so that the poor mortal can at last have some of the magic that has eluded it since it's first breath."

A choked cry escaped Sarah as she remembered the goblins that had defended the city against her desperate attempts to release her brother. Had they all been mortal like her once? Had they been doomed to that… _existence_ by a bite or sip from some sadistic Fairy's table?

Recognizing her look of distress, Jareth laughed, "Oh, don't worry your pretty little head. It is, as I said before, _very _rare that a mortal does not have some smidgen of magic in their soul. My goblins are all true goblins. It is rare that I have… visitors, and even rarer that I offer them some sustenance on their journey."

"So, I'm _not _going to become a goblin?" She asked tentatively.

"Of course not, Sarah," he straightened and began to circle her, inspecting her from all angles. "Too much magic in you for that. No my dear, you appear to be subject to that last option." He stopped in front of her, capturing all her attention and smiling a true smile, "You are going to become full Sidhe, like me."

"_What_?"

The cat who got the canary could not have a more satisfied expression than the one Jareth wore, "Yes, Sarah, the peach and the magic of the Labyrinth have seen fit to gift you with the Fae's Blessing." He bent down until he was eye to eye with her, "You are a subject of the Labyrinth now, and as such, you are _my _subject." The smile was back in place, "Understand now?"

Her mind whirled as comment after comment of this surreal conversation clicked into place. She frowned as she thought back to something he had said earlier, "What do you mean you don't like other people touching what's yours?"

Jareth's face grew stony, and his breath hissed out from between his lips as he sneered, "That… boy you _'went out'_ with. Never see him again."

Sarah's eyebrows shot up into her hairline at the command in his tone, "What I do or do not do on a date is none of your business!"

His long fingers had wrapped around her forearms and pulled her tightly to him before she could so much as flinch. "_Everything _you do is my business, Sarah," he snarled at her. "I am the one who will teach you to guard your new abilities as they develop, I am the one who gave you that peach, I am your _King_!" His lips curled, "You are one of us now, Sarah, or at least, you willbe. That makes you _mine_."

He released her and took a step back, warning, "And I _keep _what's mine." Seeing the tears that were threatening to spill from her bright eyes, he offered, "You have one year to get used to the idea." He smirked, "Such a short span of time, one year, but by the end of it you will be running to me, _begging _for me to help you." The crystal reappeared in his grasp, "In one year your transformation will be complete, and your education will begin."

One more step back and he started to drop the crystal. A thought and it stilled in midair as he gave her one last reminder, "Remember, Sarah, even with a year-long reprieve: you are _mine_… do not care too deeply for any of those mortal boys, else it will go badly for them."

The crystal resumed its downward path and with a brilliant flash, he was gone.

Karen found Sarah sitting in her window seat, face pressed against the glass. When the teenager looked up, her eyes were over-bright, as if some fire burned behind them that hadn't been there before.

The blonde sighed, glancing from her stepdaughter to the street below and back again, before sitting down beside the girl. "I know that we haven't exactly been… friends," she began uncomfortably; how the hell was she supposed to broach this topic? "But you'd tell me, if there was anything really wrong, wouldn't you?"

"Sure, Karen," Sarah answered tightly, a bitter little grin hovering about her lips.

"Even if it was something really, really strange, you could tell me," Karen continued, "It'd be ok."

"There's nothing," the brunette sighed, turning back to face the steadily pouring rain.

The blonde sighed and tunneled her fingers through her hair. So it was going to have to go the hard way, was it?

"Well, then Sarah, tell me something: why have my wards been tripped, and why aren't you completely human anymore?"

Karen had to grin at her stepdaughter's expression: it was the first time she'd seen the acerbic teenager totally speechless…

**Disclaimer: Absolutely nothing above belongs to me, not even the words. They belong to the original author of this story, one papersoul. ****General permission has been granted to continue the story as we readers wish, and I've decided to give it a shot. The original invitation is as follows:**

Author's Note: It took me forever to update this, didn't it? That was a rhetorical question. Honestly, it's too damn hard to post on this site so I'm abandoning this. These three chapters group together quite nicely as a sort of prologue to a longer arc, or they can stand alone. I think they're fine as a stand-alone but I **_AM_** throwing this open to anyone who reads it with the following challenge:

Continue the story, if you so desire, but I have a few requirements. 1) Drop me a line with a story-link so I can read it. 2) Sarah has to be Sorted. 3) Give Sarah an animagical form. That's it. Have fun, kiddies!

**As such, the first three chapters of this fic belong to papersoul, _not_ me. The subject matter belongs to many people, including the wonderful J.K. Rowling and the late, beloved Jim Henson. These people are also not me. Enjoy, and please review!**


	2. Conversing with Karen

Peach Flavored Dreams

Chapter Two: Conversing with Karen

"What are you talking about?"

Karen stood, backing up slightly so she could squint at her stepdaughter, "You used to have _no_ signature, zip, zilch, nada. Over the last month or so, that's changed, you're…" She shrugged helplessly, "Well, I don't actually know _what_ you are, or to be more precise, what you're becoming, but it definitely isn't human."

Sarah's mouth gaped open before shutting with a sharp snap, "How can you tell?"

The older woman looked flustered and a little embarrassed, "To be honest, I'm sort of… a witch."

The green-gray eyes that had been so pain-filled nearly bugged clean out of their sockets, "A _witch_?"

"Yes, I'm a non-practicing witch. My mother and father were magical too," Karen smiled wryly, "They _really_ didn't approve of my marrying your father." A fond expression crossed her features, softening them, "Not even an ounce of magic in that one…"

"But - but, if you're a witch, then why didn't you say anything when I sent Toby to the-" Too late, Sarah clapped a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide.

Karen frowned, "Sent Toby where now?"

Tears began to sparkle in Sarah's eyes once more, her voice was barely audible as she choked out her words, "I sent Toby to the Labyrinth, two months ago."

All the blood drained from the blonde's face, leaving her as white and waxy as a corpse. "Oh my," she murmured, "I think I need to sit down." She collapsed down beside Sarah and placed her head squarely between her knees, taking deep, calming breaths.

Meanwhile Sarah was becoming just the slightest bit hysterical. _Finally_ she had someone to talk to about everything she had gone through in the last few months, _finally_ she could tell someone about her little escapade into the magical realm of the goblins, _finally_ she could communicate her guilt over Toby with an actual human being… providing her stepmother ever spoke to her again.

After a few minutes, Karen sat up. Fixing Sarah with steely resolve she did not ask, she commanded: "Tell me everything."

And so, Sarah did, finally. She told Karen about her anger over losing her mother to her other lover: the stage. She explained to her stepmother how angry it made her that her father had remarried. She sobbed out how sorry she was for being such a royal brat.

Then came the hard part: the Labyrinth.

Explaining what she'd done was one of the hardest things she'd ever had to endure. Telling a woman that she'd almost condemned her child to a life as a goblin was not an easy task. She tried to communicate how out-of-sorts she'd been, she had started her period that day and had gone without any sort of medication all day. Then the babysitting, which she had not even been asked about.

One thing on top of another had led her to foolishly act out a scene from one of her favorite plays. Something she had started doing after her mother had left, foolishly thinking it would bring her closer to the flighty woman.

She struggled over the right words to use to describe the Goblin King. Terrifying was good, but if she'd been truly terrorized would she have been so very sarcastic and flippant? Evil didn't work either, after all he was only doing what she'd asked him to do. In the end she went with driven, cold, merciless… and magnificent. Beautiful in the way that wild animals were, but frightening because he was not safely locked behind the bars of a zoo.

Telling Karen of her adventures was a bit easier, though she did flush and stumble over some of her more foolish exploits. The blonde shivered violently at the thought of that tunnel made of hands, and Sarah even surprised a laugh out of the woman when she described how tough it had gotten after her Advil had worn off and the cramps had _really_ set in. By the time she wound down the story with her description of the Escher Room, she was beginning to calm down, the tears had long since dried on her face.

When at last she was finished Karen was silent for a while, her eyes wide as she tried to take it all in, "Wow."

"Yeah," Sarah frowned, "Why didn't you know that he had been here?"

Karen sighed and scrubbed at her face with her hand, answering wearily, "You invited him in, Sarah. That negated any magics that would have protected you or Toby from him." She shifted to study her stepdaughter once more, noting the redness of her eyes and the dark circles beneath them. "Well, I might have to turn in my Stepparent's License, but I'm not going to punish you for inviting a strange older man into our house," her lips quirked faintly, "I'd say you've been punished enough."

Sarah nodded emphatically, then frowned, "Is there any way to revoke the invitation?"

The blonde was immediately amused, "You mean like a vampire? No, honey, magical creatures like the truly powerful Fae can only come in with consecutive invites."

"But he came here today and I didn't invite him!"

Karen began muttering to herself, Sarah didn't catch enough to actually make any sense of what the older woman was saying. Suddenly she jumped to her feet, spinning to stare at Sarah with a mixture of horror and fascination.

"You ate fairy food! The peach!"

Sarah nodded slowly, tears spilling down her cheeks once more.

Karen smacked a hand to her forehead, "Shit, damn, fuck, and shit again!" Her face was frighteningly solemn, "He has an open invitation to our house now. You're his subject, and he has every right to visit you." She tapped her perfectly manicured fingernail to her lower lip, thinking, "But technically, by magical law, you're still a minor…"

"So?" Sarah asked hopelessly, "What does that matter? As my king, he would _own_ me."

"No, he doesn't," the older woman replied fiercely, hazel eyes taking on a truly determined glint, "And he won't, not if I have anything to say about it." She resumed pacing again, up and down the long length of the room she walked, though 'stalked' would probably be the better adjective.

Pausing, Karen focused her intense gaze on her stepdaughter again, "How would you feel about going to a magical school?"

"There are magical _schools_?"

"Yes," Karen said shortly, "I attended one, in fact. Salem Institute."

Sarah couldn't hold back a short giggle, "There's a magic school in _Salem_? How Arthur Miller of you…"

The blonde rolled her eyes, "Witch hunts are ridiculous things. If we _really_ communed with the devil, don't you think he'd help us out? Our magic saves us, and it's only the innocents that really burn…" She shook her head, attempting to get back on topic, "Anyways, you wouldn't be going to my alma mater."

"Why not?"

A grim smile worked it's way onto Karen's features, "Two words: diplomatic sanctuary."

It was amazing if you really thought about it. An entire magical world practically in her backyard and Sarah had resorted to the Sidhe to find something fantastic. She couldn't believe what a fool she'd been.

Karen had taken her up to the attic and shown her several remnants from her school days. Stroking her wand lovingly as she explained various things like school subjects, mail, money and the Ministries.

The concept of a magical government strikingly similar to the mundane one had thrown the poor teenager into a fit of hysterical giggles. Karen was kind enough to wait for her stepdaughter to calm down before going any further.

"I went to Salem, but I don't think that that will be an option for you."

"Why not?"

"It's not old enough."

Sarah frowned, "Huh?"

"Salem is only a few hundred years old, it was established about a decade after America was founded." Karen smiled wryly, "It took a while for the witches and wizards of our nation to accept that the 'Colonies' had permanently split from the mother country."

"What does age have to do with anything?"

The blonde woman was regarding her stepdaughter with a growing respect. She couldn't believe how well Sarah was taking all of this. "Let's head downstairs. We may as well be comfortable while we have this discussion." She led the way to the kitchen and started to fix up a pot of tea, flexing her wand-skills for the first time in seven years.

Once the two were comfortably ensconced on the living-room couch, Karen began again:

"Humans have only really had formalized magical training for a short time, relatively speaking. A little over a thousand years to be exact; before that it was all apprenticeships and hush-hush nonsense. Around twelve hundred years ago two witches and two wizards got together and built a school for the formal education of young magical humans. It was the first such institution of its kind and as such it holds more weight with the non-human magical community -"

"But why?" Sarah asked with a frown, "I still don't entirely understand why this one school is so special."

"When you live as long as some Sidhe do, time becomes rather fluid. This one school holds more authority because it's been around longer. There are a lot of binding magical treaties surrounding it, and a hell of a lot of wards protecting it. Theoretically the other schools should offer the same protections but…" The blonde smiled wistfully at Sarah, "I'm just not willing to risk it."

The teen could feel panic bubbling up inside of her at the thought of 'time' and 'age' in relation to the Sidhe. She was becoming a Sidhe. Would she have to watch Toby grow up and die? Would she see his children's ends too? And their children's?

Karen watched a myriad of emotions cross the teenager's face. "Oh Sarah," she enfolded the young girl in her arms and felt the tears start, quickly soaking through her shirt.

"Is everything alright?" Robert Williams entered the room and looked on in concern as his eldest child sobbed her heart out in the arms of his wife, "Karen, what's going on?"

"Just girl-stuff, dear. Why don't you take Toby out and get us some chocolate, yeah?"

"Alright, tissues too?"

Karen smiled at his lame attempt at a joke, "_Extra_-soft."

He nodded and left his two favorite girls to their discussion. Whatever it was, he trusted Karen to let him know about anything that was truly worrying. To be honest he was just glad that Sarah was starting to accept the new woman in his life, and it had only taken three years for her to do so!

Gradually Sarah's sobs tapered off until she was sitting upright again, sniffling into her peppermint tea. "Sorry," she murmured with a feeble smile.

"Sorry?" Karen scoffed, "What do you have to be sorry about? I'd be downright frightened if you didn't cry over something like this." She looked down at her tear-stained shirt and wrinkled her nose, "Although… why don't you fix us up some more tea while I go change into something more comfortable?"

The teen nodded her assent, knowing how much Karen hated being dirty, and headed to the kitchen to brew a fresh pot. She went through the motions automatically, a million thoughts sprinting through her head at the speed of light.

She was changing, and by the end of her transformation she would no longer be human. In no corner of her mind did Sarah consider the possibility that the change could be stopped. Jareth was too smug, too pleased for it to be something reversible. Karen had only confirmed it, and for better or for worse there was nothing she could do to stop the inevitable.

"Death and taxes," Sarah muttered the old adage, a tremulous grin on her pale face. "Except death's not a certainty any more, is it?"

It was strange to think that she, Sarah Diana Williams, was soon to be an immortal. Someone who could not die. Someone magical. She had chased after the fairies all her life and now she was going to _be_ one, just when she was discovering how much she liked the ordinary.

Karen came into the kitchen, her outfit reflecting the lazy-rainy-day apparel that her stepdaughter already sported, "Alright then, where were we?"

"Um, different magical schools?"

"Oh right. Anyways, there are four possible magical schools I can name off the top of my head: Salem, Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and Hogwarts."

Sarah wrinkled her nose, "Hogwarts?"

"Yeah, I always wondered where the name came from, myself…" She shook herself out of her small reverie and continued, "The one I want to send you to is Hogwarts. It's the oldest of the magic schools and I _know_ they've got some sort of magical treaty with the Fae."

"Wait a minute, if Salem was the first school in America -" The teenager took in her stepmother's small wince with growing alarm, "Karen, where is Hogwarts?"

"Somewhere in Scotland."

"_Somewhere_? You don't even know where it is and you're planning to send me there?"

"Darling, no-one knows the _exact_ location of any of the schools. It's a closely guarded secret, just like the wards and such. We all know that they're there but to know the exact location or the precise protections would make them less safe than they actually are," she explained gently.

"But you said you went to Salem," Sarah said accusingly.

"Yes, I did," Karen acknowledged, "But the school itself is not in Salem proper, it's in a nebulous area. For all I know the school I attended could be located several miles _below_ the actual town of Salem."

"How? How is that possible?"

"It's the nature of magic, dear. Almost anything is possible, if not always probable."

"Oh lord," Sarah slumped into one of the kitchen chairs and dropped her head down onto the table, "I'm getting a headache."

"Having your view of the world drastically altered tends to do that," the blonde informed the younger woman amusedly. "Why don't you go to bed early? I need to start sending off some letters, start getting in touch with some people, and…" Karen heaved a breath, "I'm going to need to tell your father."

"What? No!" Sarah's head lifted in surprised horror, "Don't tell Dad!"

"He's going to figure out something's wrong when you start changing - physically, I mean."

"Am I really going to change that much?" Sarah asked, her hands automatically going to various body parts as if to check and make sure that they were all still attached and accounted for.

"Honestly? I don't know."

"That's not comforting."

Karen sighed, "It wasn't meant to be, Sarah. I'm as much in the dark in this situation as you are. The Fae were never really a subject of interest to me growing up. I don't even know when the last reported case of Fae Blessing was, only that it's a possibility."

"Does Dad know? About you, I mean?" Sarah said, changing the subject. She didn't want to think any further about being an unknown.

"Of course he does. Magic runs in my family," the blonde eyed the younger woman pointedly until realization lightened the brunette's green-gray eyes.

"Toby?"

"Yes, there's a very good chance that he'll be a wizard. After his little jaunt to the Goblin Realm that chance is drastically increased." Karen smiled softly, placing a gentle hand on her stomach, "I always wanted to have a big family. I had to tell your father."

Thinking of the revelations to come, Sarah asked tentatively, "How did he take it?"

The older woman's expression became wry, "As well as can be expected. Out of sight is out of mind for your father, so long as I'm not practicing he doesn't have to acknowledge it."

"What made you give it up?"

"There were a lot of things, actually. Magic isn't a cure for anything and everything, and the muggle - that is to say, non-magical - world is full of so many wonders. I was always something of a rebel," Karen smirked at her stepdaughter's obvious surprise, "Don't look so shocked. You don't hold the market on youthful indiscretion. The more my folks pushed me towards the Wizarding World the more I fought back." She wrinkled her nose, "My parents are not quite racist: they just cannot understand living without magic, what's more they don't _want_ to understand."

Sarah was beginning to get upset again, "So marrying my dad was some sort of statement?"

"Oh no! I may stick to my principles but I wouldn't have involved others in any 'statements' I made. Your father... well, your father is a very special man." Karen smiled dreamily, "I knew that I wanted to be with him almost from the moment I laid eyes on him, and nothing was going to stand in my way - not parents, not magic, not even his angry daughter."

Sarah flushed, "I was awful."

"Not awful, exactly, but you were certainly an obstacle. My parents still won't speak to me -"

"They came to Toby's last birthday though."

"Of course they did, it's very likely that he'll be magical, and they wanted to ensure that I wouldn't hold him back." She sighed into her tea, looking down, "I would never force my decisions on him, on any of my children. What happened between my parents and I... well, it's complicated."

Sarah fought back a yawn, trying to hide it with little success.

Karen nodded to the younger girl's tea, "Drink up and then bed, you can sleep in tomorrow but I expect your father will be wanting to speak with you."

Vulnerable green-gray eyes lifted to stare into hazel ones beseechingly, "Do you think he'll..." She trailed off uncomfortably, there were so many ways to end that sentence. Do you think he'll forgive me for sending his son to the Labyrinth? Accept me even though I'm going to be a fairy? Still love me after all is said and done?

The blonde read all those questions and more in her stepdaughter's eyes, seeing all those thoughts and knowing Richard as she did, Karen gave the only possible answer:

"Yes."

**Disclaimer: See first chapter--so far, nothing is mine. :) Please review! Even though it's not mine, I may find it encouraging in terms of writing the next bits!**


	3. Magical Meanderings

Peach Flavored Dreams

Chapter Three: Magical Meanderings

She slept deeply, the sleep of the exhausted, and she was. The day's emotional and physical toll had been telling, not to mention the weeks of insomnia leading up to the revelation. So when Sarah woke, looked at the clock, and read 10:30 instead of two or three or four, she grinned fit to break her face.

Sarah went through her morning ablutions quietly, not quite ready to alert the rest of the household to her state of consciousness and far from prepared to face her father. He would know, and there was no way that so many shocking truths could be unsaid. In spite of Karen's reassurances, there was some part of Sarah - the same part that still cried over Linda's absence - that feared his disgust, his rejection.

11:30 found the teenager washed, dressed, and pacing her bedroom irritably. She knew that Karen would leave her alone until she was ready to come out, a fact that she both appreciated and despaired of. On this morning of all mornings Sarah desperately needed an extra kick to get out of this blue funk.

Suddenly exhausted she slid onto the edge of her bed, unconsciously leaning against the same post that Jareth had so casually utilized. An abominable cocktail of nerves/anticipation/fear/anger/worry pumped through her veins, making her twitch with the urge to move. Her eyes flickered around her room: too pumped to read, too old to play, what to do... what to do?

Her lips formed the words before her brain could even transmit the request, it was instinctual: "Hoggle? I need you."

There was a soft shimming in the air before the dwarf, fox, dog, and beast fell into her room with an inaudible _thump_. They reorganized themselves quickly - Didymus and Hoggle fixing rumpled clothing - before fixing her with disturbingly identical concerned expressions.

"He's told you, ain't he?"

Sarah's eyes widened then narrowed angrily at Hoggle's sad countenance. "You mean you knew all along, and you never told me?"

"My lady we could not, our liege forbade it," Didymus informed her sadly.

"All this time you've been keeping this secret! Why? _Why_?"

"If we told he weren't gonna let us visit no more," the dwarf begged her to understand, turning her friendship bracelet around his wrist nervously, "We didn't wanna leave you 'lone when you found out."

The fox-knight chimed in, "It was the lesser of two dire evils."

"Sawah sad?"

The teenager mustered up a small - and terribly false - smile for her furry friend, "Yes Ludo, Sarah sad... and mad... and horribly confused." Her face crumpled, "What's happening to me? Can you tell me that? What's going to happen?"

The group surrounded her: Ludo lifting her gently into his lap, Didymus climbing up as well, while Hoggle patted her arm anxiously. Her senses filled with the smell of magic, dog, and something incredibly earthy that reminded her of oubliettes and fireys.

"We are allowed to tell you some things," the fox-knight began hesitantly. Seeing the hopeful look in Sarah's tear-bright eyes had him shaking his head, "No milady, we cannot tell you everything." He exchanged a frustrated glance with Hoggle, "We are... bound."

"What do you mean? You helped me when I went through the Labyrinth," her voice was scratchy with tears, but the question and slight accusation was still quite clear.

"We weren't much help, though," Hoggle muttered, "We weren't allowed to be. We did what we could when we could, but the King always had final say."

"So he wanted me to succeed?" Sarah grimaced, "That doesn't make any sense."

The look that passed between the two more sentient denizens of the Labyrinth was oddly reminiscent of a glance often seen on the faces of the girls with whom Sarah went to school. She was still so young, and oddly naive for all her experiences in the Goblin Realm.

"He didn't want you to win, exactly," the dwarf began slowly, "But he wanted you to feel as if you'd had a good try, and we weren't supposed to like you as much as we did."

Sarah blushed, "I was such a brat back then."

"A bit," Didymus allowed, "But charming for all that, your true colors showed through no matter how much you tried to disguise them."

"Thank you, Sir Didymus."

Ludo broke in, his smile vaguely troubled, "Sawah fawee?"

Hoggle snorted, "Big lug doesn't really get it yet."

"It's not his fault," Sarah admonished him her face softening a little as she looked into those huge, concerned, brown eyes, "It's not as if I get it yet either." She turned to face Hoggle and Didymus, scooting back further into Ludo's protective embrace, "How can I be turning into one of them?" She gave a half-hearted growl, her tone turning petulant and almost whiny, "It doesn't make any sense!"

The dwarf eyed her askance for a moment before mouthing the words, "_'It's not fair!'_"

The teenager flushed again, "I was regressing a bit, huh?"

Hoggle and Didymus nodded solemnly.

"It's just hard to take in, I'm turning into a fairy. In one year I'll be a Sidhe -"

"Milady," Didymus broke in, "Who told you that it would take a year?"

"Ja - he did." She glanced at him in some surprise, "He lied?" Thinking back on his exact words caused a fierce scowl to take shape on her face, "Ok, he didn't lie exactly, but he omitted a helluva lot."

"Sidhe rarely lie, it dilutes their magic," came a voice from the doorway. Sarah stood abruptly at the sight of her stepmother's pale face. "When were you going to tell me about _this_?" The blonde gestured expansively to include the three obvious non-humans and the dog (noble steed) all lounging casually about the bedroom.

"It, um, slipped my mind?"

Mrs. Williams rolled her eyes heavenward and then closed them as if in extreme pain, "I'm going to give you ten minutes to get your butt downstairs, your father and I need to speak with you." She turned to go, then paused as her inner need to hostess reared its obsessive head, "Would any of you like some cookies?"

"Karen!"

"Right, right, I'll just be going," she headed down the stairs, muttering under her breath all the way.

There was a short pause, and then:

"She's correct," Didymus turned to Sarah, his ears twitching sporadically, "You are going to give her gray hairs before her time. You did not tell us that your stepmother was a witch!"

"I didn't know until _yesterday_," she informed him pointedly, absurdly gratified to see his whiskers droop and Hoggle's swarthy complexion darken in embarrassment.

"We'd best be going now missy, your folks want to speak with you," Hoggle called up a smile for her before shimmering out.

Didymus favored her with a small hug before he too left, taking Ludo and Ambrosius with him. She sat on the floor in the middle of her room for a moment before slowly rising and heading towards the door.

"Time to face the music."

As a general rule Albus Dumbledore received anywhere from thirty to three hundred owls in the course of a single day. Unlike many of his counterparts in the various magical schools that dotted the globe, he answered each and every correspondence personally. In his long life - he was currently nearing his eleventy-first birthday, but who was counting? - he had never received a letter with a higher potential for disturbing his school.

_Dear Headmaster Dumbledore,_

_I have never had the opportunity to meet with you, nor would I likely have ever had cause to write to you were it not for a rather unfortunate incident that has recently altered the fate of my teenage stepdaughter._

_Sarah has recently returned from a trip to the Labyrinth. Unfortunately, as a muggle, she was unaware of the numerous strictures and rules governing visits to the Sidhe realms. She was there for nearly a full day and in the course of her stay was given a peach - though indirectly - by a Sidhe Lord._

_My stepdaughter is currently suffering the results of her jaunt in the form of the 'Fae's Blessing.' As you may no doubt guess, this is quite disturbing to both her father and myself. We do not have the power to enforce the treaties that bind our realms, nor do we wish to relinquish our daughter into the guardianship of an unknown. Sarah is still a minor, by any culture's reckoning, and we wish her to complete her schooling._

_Here is where your assistance is required: magical schooling would be preferred, as the Lord in question has promised her one year's grace. Untrained, there is every chance she may go mad, break the statute, or do harm to herself and others through her lack of understanding. Hogwarts, as the oldest of magical establishments, has the best chance of giving her both the training she requires, and the protection we feel she needs._

_Awaiting your reply,_

_Karen Irene Williams_

Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled mischievously as he pondered the various repercussions of teaching a budding Sidhe how to control her abilities. Putting the proverbial cat amongst the hens was a mild understatement of the commotion it would cause. Yes indeed, having Sarah Williams attend Hogwarts could only bring him long nights of work and even longer days of appeasing trustees.

With that in mind he quickly penned his reply:

_My dear Mrs. Williams,_

_I would be delighted to meet you and your daughter to discuss her future at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please forward an appropriate time and address._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

"WHAT?"

Karen smoothed down the cushion-covers of the loveseat for the third time, barely looking up as she repeated, "Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, is coming over for tea today."

Sarah stared at her stepmother, jaw gaping open and closed like a fish, "And you didn't think to tell me this until _now_? Less than an hour before he arrives?"

At that the blonde looked up, "I didn't want you to worry or fuss, this way you can't get yourself worked up beforehand."

Part of Sarah, the bratty teenager bit, wanted to take that statement as a challenge. The rest of her - a portion that had been steadily growing since the Labyrinth - appreciated the older woman's foresight and knowledge of the inner workings of the young mind.

She watched while Karen fussed over the living room, fixing various things that really were almost _too_ perfect to begin with. Left to her own devices it was the blonde who would work herself into a coma 'preparing' for their illustrious guest.

"Need some help?"

"What?" The witch was startled for a moment, then smiled, "Why, yes actually, that would be nice. Could you go make sure that your father hasn't eaten any of the tea-sandwiches?" She shook her head exasperatedly, "Honestly that man..."

"Sure, Karen," Sarah laughed a little as she headed to the kitchen. Her father had taken the news that his only daughter was turning into a magical creature rather well. The fact that she had broken curfew and been unsupervised in the company of a suspicious male character had not gone down nearly so agreeably, and the idea of his baby girl going to a boarding school in _Scotland_ of all places... well, suffice it to say that while his priorities might be considered a bit odd, he was still just as concerned for his daughter as any father.

Sure enough, when Sarah entered the kitchen she found her father leaning over the plate, just about to remove the Saran Wrap and dig in.

"Dad!"

He jumped guiltily, "What?"

"Those are for tea."

Richard rolled his baby-blue eyes expressively and gestured to the plate, which was nearly overflowing with tiny tea-sandwiches, "Is this Dumbo-door man really going to eat all these snacks?"

Privately Sarah doubted it; Karen had prepared enough food to feed a family of ten. "You never know," she stated seriously, "He might have the appetite of a horse."

"One sandwich?"

The brunette smiled sweetly at her grumbling father, playing her trump-card with pleasure, "Karen said no. Why don't you take it up with her?"

"You don't fight fair."

"Fair?" An odd look came into her green-gray eyes and for a moment she looked right through him, a wry little smile hovering about her lips. "Who said anything about being fair?"

Richard frowned and snapped his fingers before her face, "Are you alright? Feeling ok?"

She pushed his arm aside, coming back to herself with an almost audible snap, "I'm fine, just a little... I dunno." The corners of her mouth quirked a little, "Big changes, dad."

"No matter what, you'll always be my little girl," he said gravely, opening his arms and enfolding her in a massive bear-hug.

"I know, daddy. I know." She snuggled into the hug and relaxed for the first time in days.

Suddenly soft snuffling noises filled the room, piped in through the baby monitors, one of which was installed in every room of the house. "Toby's up," Richard eyed his daughter hopefully, she no longer considered her baby brother a chore and...

"I'll get him, dad."

... anything that got him out of Toby's midday poopy-diaper change was a blessed relief.

"Have a nice nap, Tobes?"

The toddler quieted instantly at the sound of his sister's voice, grinning up at her with his baby teeth. Rolling over, he rose to his feet and stood against the bars of his crib, watching while she got out diapers and wipes.

"The Dumbledore guy is coming today, _today_! Karen didn't tell me 'cause she didn't want me to get all worked up over a little tea... with my future Headmaster... who teaches at a magical school..." Sarah slumped down against the chest that sat at the foot of the crib, "This is all so strange, Toby! Two months ago I was an average teenage girl and now I'm... ugh."

She glanced up to find him watching her solemnly. Sarah's look turned sheepish, "I'm rambling again, aren't I?"

Toby cocked his head to the side and lifted his shoulders in a gallic shrug.

Anyone else would have been disturbed at the sight of an eighteen-month-old giving what could be considered an appropriate response. To Sarah it was one more thing that was not quite normal in her day. Toby had been more adult-like, more mature since his own little visit with Jareth in the Labyrinth.

He was no more an average toddler than she was an average teenager.

Sometimes she felt guilty for what she had done, how much he had changed. But some secret little selfish part, one of the bits that had shrunk a little in her time in the fairy maze, was glad that someone else had gone there. Her experiences set her apart, but Toby was just as odd as she was.

Part of her was comforted by that.

"So Tobes, have good dreams?" She busied herself in grabbing some cute clothing out for him, Karen would be dressing him up anyways so she might as well make sure the blonde didn't have to do this as well.

His little blonde head bobbed up and down in a strong affirmative.

Sarah frowned at him, "About him again?"

Another nod.

She sighed gustily. Toby had dreamt of Jareth at least once a week since meeting the Sidhe Lord. Before Jareth's visit it had not concerned her - she had merely thought it was some remnant of the toddler's own time with the king, but since then... well, she was glad of Dumbledore's visit for more than just her own sake.

"Maybe I should ask Hoggle about it," she muttered to herself as she swiftly changed the stinky diaper. Toby didn't giggle or wriggle during this daily ritual, something that pleased Sarah to no end. Changing a diaper was never a pleasure, but at least with her brother it wasn't an awful chore.

Setting him gently back on his feet she inspected him from head to toe. Nice jeans - from the Baby Gap - and a cute little blue button-up shirt, he was set. Standing, she started to head out of the room expecting him to follow her when he gave a little gurgle, stopping her in her tracks.

"What is it?"

He held up his arms in the universal child-gesture of 'pick me up.' Sarah regarded him in some surprise. He usually enjoyed his new-found ability to run and walk as he pleased, disdaining to be held. Ah well, she shrugged. She liked holding him.

Scooping the little blonde up, the dark-haired girl headed down the stairs. Listening to Karen's last-minute adjustments and her father's quiet mutters about 'snacks before teatime.'

Seconds later her not-so-wicked stepmother came into view, dust rag in hand. "Oh, Sarah you got Toby up? Thanks so much," Karen smiled in relieved appreciation.

"No problem, do you want us to wait in the living room?"

"Oh yes, that would be perfect, we're not hooked up to the Floo so he's coming in by Portkey," all this was mumbled very fast and under the blonde's breath as her mind was clearly on other things.

Sarah frowned, "What are you talking about?"

"What? Oh, different methods of transportation, dear."

"You mean you don't all fly around on broomsticks all the time?" Sarah asked with a joking smile - which was quickly wiped off her face at Karen's next words.

"No dear, brooms are more for short journeys, not trans-Atlantic trips!"

For the second time that day the teenager was left gaping by something her stepmother had said. Any further questions were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell ringing. Instantly all four occupants of the house halted and turned towards the sound.

"That must be..."

"Right, so we should..."

"Oh for Pete's sake!" Karen eyed her husband and stepdaughter in exasperation, "Robert, you get the door and show him in while I go get the sandwiches. Sarah, take Toby into the living room and sit down, alright?"

"Right," Richard shook himself, "Right. I'll just go and let in..." He frowned helplessly, "What was his name again?"

"Albus Dumbledore," the blonde hissed, shoving her husband towards the door, "Scoot!"

Sarah headed to the living room and sat on the couch. The instant she was down, Toby was wriggling to be free. He slid from her arms and into the seat next to her, swinging his legs idly and absentmindedly patting her arm.

She watched him for a moment, amused yet still oddly comforted by the gesture. Her knuckles turned white as she heard her father greeting their guest, and her nails bit into her palms when Karen joined them as well. By the time the three adults had made their way into the room Sarah was just shy of drawing blood and Toby was eyeing her worriedly at the audible grinding of her teeth within her clenched jaw.

"Hello, Ms. Williams," the old man beamed at her and Sarah felt distinctly lightheaded. This man was the Headmaster of a magical boarding school? Were wizards colorblind?!

He wore a long set of flowing robes in a violent shade of purple, an electric blue scarf wrapped around his neck and a stereotypical wizard's hat echoing the blue and purple, with a dash of lime just to make it truly eye-popping.

Remembering her manners, Sarah rose to shake his hand. "Hello, Mr. Dumbledore."

His blue eyes twinkled at her from behind half-moon spectacles. "Please, call me 'Albus.' You're not enrolled yet!"

"Won't you sit down?" Karen gestured towards a chair and settled herself on the couch beside Toby, Richard on her other side in a sign of familial solidarity.

"Ah, yes, thank you." He sat and studied Sarah and Toby for a moment, his eyes flicking between the two and towards the parents for a moment, "Fascinating, utterly fascinating."

"What's fascinating?" Sarah asked, her hands clenching into fists all over again.

"Well my dear, the last recorded case of Fae Blessing was approximately six hundred years ago. I never thought to see it happen in my lifetime," he smiled with the air of a child on Christmas morning. Becoming serious once more he leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingertips as he inspected them once more, "Now, why don't you tell me the whole story, start to finish, from the time you entered the Labyrinth."

So she did, and found it was much easier to explain to him, a relative stranger, than it had been to tell the story to either her stepmother or her father. It helped that he interrupted from time to time to ask intelligent questions, queries that forced her to pause and reevaluate, occasionally even jogging her memory for more details about the Labyrinth.

By the time she was done half the sandwiches were gone from the tray and Karen had had to make three trips to the kitchen for more tea.

"Amazing," Albus muttered, "Simply amazing. You say he visited you after you had returned from your date?"

"Yes," Sarah smiled. Enough time had passed for her to find the whole thing rather funny. "It wasn't much of a date, to be honest."

"Well, that may not be entirely the fault of chance, my dear," the silver-haired man informed her gently. "The Sidhe can be capricious and odd, possessive of their mates and subjects in ways that no mortal ruler is."

"You mean..." The teenager's eyes widened in angry shock, "He sabotaged my date!"

"More or less," Dumbledore nodded, taking yet another cup of tea from Karen with an appreciative smile.

Sarah's eyes seemed to light from within, causing the green-gray color to flicker and glow. Her hair shifted about her shoulders in an unseen wind as her anger rose. "That _interfering_, smug little Fae BASTARD!" She jumped to her feet and began to pace around the room, either unconscious of or ignoring the way the flowers and other light objects were trembling like an earthquake had passed in her wake.

A persistent tugging on her pant-leg drew her attention down to where Toby was sucking on his thumb in an irritated manner and frowning at her. "What?"

He gestured with his free hand to encompass the room and Sarah's eyes widened as she saw the mess. The light went out of her eyes and her hair settled down as she turned to Karen with shock and apology written all over her face. "I'm sorry!"

"Hmm," Dumbledore looked on speculatively, "It might be best if you came in for some summer school before the regular term starts. You won't be able to take all the classes that the regular students take, and you'll be taking some additional courses to help you cope..." He trailed off into bureaucratic mutters while Karen, Sarah, and Richard started to clean up the minor mess.

"So does this mean she can attend?" The blonde witch asked. Nothing was settled until he said it outright, to her way of thinking.

"Oh yes, of course, where else would she go? No, no, it's best for her to come to Hogwarts." He turned to Sarah with a small smile, "My school is a sort of an embassy. Near the time of its founding it was agreed that it would be a neutral zone. Occasionally treaties are drawn there, let me think, the last one was..." He paused to think it over, "Two hundred odd years ago, I believe."

"Neutral—so does that mean that no-one has authority?"

"Except for the Headmaster, and to a lesser extent the teachers, yes that is exactly what it means."

Sarah's eyes brightened, "Jareth will have no power over me!"

The lights in the room flickered briefly, but the Williams attributed it to the teenager's excitement. Nobody seemed to detect the soft fluttering sound of a bird flying away from the window. Toby shivered slightly - to him it felt as if the room's temperature had dropped ten degrees - and moved closer to his sister, his reaction unnoticed in the general happiness that Sarah's exclamation had preceded.

The girl in question was lighthearted: she was going to Hogwarts, she would learn to control her magic and what she was becoming - but best of all, Jareth would have no power over her.

An echo of a whisper of a thought flickered through the brunette's mind - the tone more amused than bothered - though it would trouble the teenager's sleep that night and for many nights to come:

_"You say that so often, Sarah... Do you really know what it means?"_

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**Author's Note: And here conclude the original three chapters! From here on in, it'll be all me. Of course, seeing as I've only outlined a very vague storyline and written parts of the next few chapters, I won't be updating nearly as frequently as I have been. Rest assured, I will do so as often as possible, but I do have a very busy schedule outside the wonderful world of fanfiction. As ever, reviews are the fertilizer of the tree of creativity. Thank you!**


	4. So Long, Farewell

Peach Flavored Dreams

Chapter Four: So Long, Farewell

Dumbledore's visit was concluded quickly. They had decided (that is to say, Dumbledore and Karen had decided) that it would be in Sarah's best interests if the move to magical Britain took place as soon as possible. This way, Dumbledore explained, she could be under Hogwarts' protection sooner rather than later, and they could thus prevent the Goblin King from changing his mind and revoking her one years' grace. Sarah could not agree more.

The next morning saw Sarah waking after an only semi-fitful slumber to attempt to finish as much of her packing as possible. She would be departing for Britain later that very day, and anything that she didn't pack now would be sent along 'later.' Uncertain as to what 'later' might mean, Sarah had decided to stuff everything she possibly could into the two large duffle bags that her father had provided for this very purpose.

Sarah was somewhat surprised at how few of her things she deemed essential for this trip. She'd packed a good two weeks' worth of clothing, a few photos, and some books. Most of the books were collections of old fairy tales—it never hurt to be prepared.

Since packing had taken a much shorter period of time than she'd expected, Sarah was at a bit of a loss of what to do with herself after she had finished. It was too early to go into town, and after her unexpected displays of power the day before, she was hesitant to expose herself to another unintentional loss of control just yet. Perhaps Karen would be willing to accompany her to the park… she would enjoy just one more afternoon in her childhood playground.

Humming to herself, quietly so as not to wake the sleeping occupants of the next room, Sarah crept her bedroom and down the stairs to the kitchen, where she proceeded to cook breakfast. As she rummaged about for ingredients, she marveled over what her new school would have in store for her. Thoughts swarmed her head, questions buzzing urgently, each one more curious than the one before. What would it be like? Certainly not a boring school, like the high school she had had the _privilege _of attending for the past three years. Something wonderful, something new and different…

"You're up awfully early, Sarah."

Beaming absentmindedly, Sarah swooped down to press a quick kiss to her brother's cheek.

"Morning Karen! Tobes," Sarah sang.

"Good morning, Sarah," Karen replied.

"Sit, sit. I'm making breakfast this morning."

Karen setting Toby into his highchair and took a seat at the centre island facing Sarah. From her place at the table, Karen watched her dark-haired stepdaughter fiddle with the stove preparing breakfast, chatting amiably as she cooked.

"So what sort of things can wizards do, anyway? You said they fly, and if there are schools and a government, there must be a bunch of magical careers and stuff, right? And what do they teach at a school for magic? Spells, enchantments—oh, and magic potions, of course! Can wizards predict the future?"

"Your enthusiasm is truly admirable, Sarah," laughed Karen. "I half-expected censure for not telling you, once the initial shock wore off. You really have matured." Sarah stuck out her tongue in response, eliciting another laugh from Karen. Toby banged his spoon against the table, and Sarah obediently filled his bowl with piping hot oatmeal. She shook a small amount of cinnamon into it, and he sneezed. "Well, wizards can do a lot, and have jobs fairly similar to those in the muggle world. We have shops, and people to run them. The same goes for businesses, newspapers, magazines, and the Ministry. Some people specialize in developing new spells and potions and such, and others try to advance our knowledge of, well, everything. There are Wizarding athletes, ambassadors, singers, novelists, doctors, interior decorators—pretty much anything you can think of." Karen watched in amusement as Sarah began to consider the possibilities.

"As for classes, I expect you'll be taking the average. Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and possibly Divination or Arithmancy. _Maybe_ Ancient Runes."

"What's—"

"Please, dear, let me finish." Sarah quieted with good humor. She didn't miss the irony. "Potions, Charms, Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Ancient Runes, and Care of Magical Creatures are what they sound like. Arithmancy is basically magic plus numbers plus intent, and Divination is predicting the future. Transfiguration deals with turning one thing into another. I think it's very likely that your schedule will be tailored to fit your needs, as some of these things will be more useful than others to a budding Fae." This last she said very carefully and very gently. Her suspicions were confirmed when Sarah paused in the middle of cracking an egg. Silence reigned. Even Toby stopped in his enthusiastic hurling of his oatmeal onto the walls to regard his sister solemnly.

"So why didn't you tell me you're a witch?"

Karen sighed. If avoidance was Sarah's method of choice, there was little she could do about it. They weren't _that_ close yet. "I suppose it would be too much to ask that you'd forget about that." Sarah quirked an eyebrow in response, but a little of the tension bled out of her, and she returned to the stove. "Right. Well, I told Robert the night he proposed. It seemed only fair that he knew what he was getting himself into. We agreed that it would be best if you were gradually made aware of the fact—early on, if you'll recall, most of our gifts—my gifts—to you were books about magic. You would have found them fantasy, but they are based on fact."

There was a pregnant pause as Sarah took this in. "You don't seriously expect me to believe that a blond-haired, blue-eyed wizard who looks like Kenneth Branagh and whose favorite color is _lilac _actually managed to defeat a pack of rabid werewolves, do you?"

Breakfast was concluded with no further mention of the reasons for Sarah's imminent departure. Instead, for the rest of the morning, she and Karen took turns entertaining Toby, and Sarah eagerly absorbed as much information as she could about the strange new world that would soon be her haven. Karen, though normally the last woman Sarah would ask about the inner workings of pop culture America, turned out to be a veritable well of fascinating information about the world of mortal magic, or as Karen termed it, the Wizarding World. Try as she might, however, Sarah was unable to cajole her stepmother into breaking out her wand to show her a few tricks; the blonde woman truly seemed to have put her old life behind her.

They wiled away the rest of the day together, talking about anything and everything Sarah could expect upon her arrival. She was surprised to learn that there was only one Wizarding bank in the whole world: Gringotts. To add to this discovery, Sarah listened with a sense of growing unease to Karen's lengthy descriptions of the goblins that ran it. Dismissing the thought from her mind—after all, there was hardly anything she could do about it at this point—Sarah spent the remainder of the day enjoying her home, and her family.

Later that evening, the Williams family sat assembled in the living room, once more awaiting the arrival of a magical guest. Toby sat with Karen, oddly still even for him. Sarah sat separately, her bags at her feet, growing steadily more and more anxious. Now that she thought about it, two weeks' worth of clothes was hardly enough, and perhaps she would be better off with a few more things. It wasn't yet five; she had time to run upstairs and fetch that purple sweater, and who knows, it might be cold there, and she wasn't sure when it would be that she'd actually get the rest of her things, so maybe it would be best if—Sarah jumped half a foot in the air when a hand descended onto her cold shoulder.

"Honey, relax. I'm right here." Sarah looked up into her father's grey eyes and let out a soothing breath. Her body sagged back into the chair.

"I know. I'm just—I don't know. Nervous, I guess."

"I know what you mean." His face smiled, but his eyes, while warm, had lost some of their optimism. After yesterday's events he'd asked Karen to explain the situation in a bit more detail, and was less than pleased with what he had learned. A fairy? His Sarah? And this Goblin King character was certainly not one he would want near either of his children. As much as he disliked the idea of sending has only daughter so far away, it seemed to be the only option if he wanted to keep her safe. He took his daughter's hand, and held it tight. Sarah, his beautiful, darling Sarah, smiled up at him, squeezed his fingers, and returned her gaze to the ever-ticking clock.

They waited.

At two minutes to five there was a slight _pop _and all of the sudden the foyer was occupied by very striking woman of indeterminate age. She stood tall and straight, cloaked in long burgundy robes of a style similar to Dumbledore's, though thankfully of much better taste. Her dark hair, streaked with silver, was pulled tightly back into a bun at the nape of her neck, and her sharp eyes were framed with square-rimmed glasses. To top off the ensemble, she wore a tall, pointed hat—the type worn by witches in the movies. She stood for a moment on the carpet where she had appeared, and scanned the room. There was a pause as the Williams family blinked at her owlishly, before Karen remembered herself and leapt to her feet.

"Hello! Welcome. I'm Mrs. Williams. This is my husband, Richard. Pleased to meet you, Professor…?

"Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress. A pleasure."

"Please, would you take a seat?" offered Karen. McGonagall acquiesced. Mercifully, her rather formidable presence prevented Karen's inner hostess from suggesting some lemonade as well. There was an awkward silence as the articulate members Williams family scrambled for something neutral to say that wouldn't lead to the reason for her sudden appearance. Toby crawled into Karen's lap and tugged at her sleeve.

"What is it you teach, Professor McGonagall?" Sarah asked politely, speaking for the first time since the (obviously Scottish) witch's arrival.

"Transfiguration. You must be Miss Williams." McGonagall's voice was brisk, but not unkind. She extended a thin hand, and Sarah shook it. Her grip was surprisingly firm. Karen, taking Sarah's cue, chimed in.

"When Dumbledore said your arrival would be unconventional, I didn't think he meant it would be apparition! It's not so unusual here in the states, not by any means."

"That would be because I am not the one the Headmaster intended to send." Sarah observed curiously the touch of affectionate exasperation that bled into the austere professor's voice. "When I learned whom he had meant to send, I came here to ensure things go as planned. Your husband is a muggle, and I would not wish him to cause undue alarm. He has not arrived, then?"

"No, not yet." Karen said, puzzled.

"If you aren't the person Professor Dumbledore sent to get me, then who is?"

"I expect you'll meet him in a moment," McGonagall said, a queer half-smile tugging at one corner of her mouth. Abruptly the Williams family became aware of a low rumbling sound filling the silence of the evening. It grew slowly, gradually building in depth and intensity, louder and louder and louder as the very air began to vibrate. Something was coming, something large. At exactly four minutes past five o' clock, it arrived, the thunderous roar escalating until it was deafening and right outside the front of the house, and then tapering off with the puttering sound of a well-kept engine.

Sarah, Karen, and Richard exchanged glances, and then simultaneously leapt to their feet to rush to the window and peer out into the front yard in the light of the coming dusk.

"What on earth is _that_?" Richard asked, his mouth gaping loosely open. Karen exhibited a similar reaction, gazing in shock at what appeared to be a gigantic blue motorcycle that had apparently just flown into her rose bushes.

The doorbell rang, and Toby, who had in the interim crawled until he was before the door, gurgled at it. Sarah squared her shoulders and strode with more confidence than she felt to answer it. She felt Professor McGonagall's eyes on her back as she knelt to pick up Toby before turning to open the door.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled—the door swung open—and a giant of a man ducked under the doorway and stepped through.

"He-hello," Sarah stuttered. The man peered at her with glittering black eyes through a wiry black beard. Sarah stepped back to allow him further in. Taking up more than half of the foyer with his great width and height, the man turned and shut the door behind him. It fell closed with an audible _thud_ that shook the foundations of the house. Sarah gulped, her throat slightly dry. He rotated to face her again, and Sarah took in his full appearance for the first time. The stranger wore an enormous musty brown coat and black rubber golashes the size of baby dolphins; in one trash bin lid-sized hand he carried a luridly pink umbrella.

"I'm pleased to meet you," said Sarah. Shifting Toby to her other hip, she managed to extract a hand to offer to the stranger with a nervous smile. As he shook the proffered limb, his eyes crinkled into a wide smile. Sarah was pleased to say that this time, she had said it without the slightest tremor in her voice.

"Nice ter meet yeh," the man said. "I'm Hagrid. Yeh must be Sarah."

"Yes. And this my brother, Toby." Sarah added, gently bouncing the toddler in her arms.

"Hullo little feller," Hagrid said, leaning forward to offer Toby his finger. Toby accepted the gesture, grabbing onto it solemnly with one hand. He regarded Hagrid, eyes grave, and Hagrid chuckled.

"My parents are over there, staring at your motorcycle," Sarah stated calmly.

"Ah, righ'." Hagrid said, looking up with a slightly guilty expression on his face. Gently reclaiming his finger, he ambled over to where Karen and Richard were openly gawking at both him and his equally immense motorcycle. They couldn't seem to decide which was more alarming. "Sorry abou' the bushes."

Karen nodded dumbly. Richard cleared his throat. "And y-you're the one this Dumble-bore sent for Sarah?"

"Yeah, that's righ'."

"You're going to fly to Britain on a _motorcycle_?" Karen asked, her voice uncharacteristically high.

"You can see why I thought it wise to come along," McGonagall said. At the sound of her voice, Hagrid jumped visibly and whirled around. The floor shook when he came down.

"Pro-professor McGonagall! What're yeh doin' here?"

"What do you _think_ I'm doing here, Hagrid? Did you really expect that I could allow you to take a sixteen year-old girl with unstable magic on a transatlantic journey in that _contraption_ of yours? I don't care what Dumbledore says, when I'm through with the pair of you, you'll wish that—"

"Hold on, hold on!" Hagrid interrupted hurriedly. "I wasn't gonna take the bike!"

McGonagall looked as though she was on the verge of grabbing his ear and yelling into it. "You certainly weren't going to try to apparate away with her!"

"O' course not! He gave me a Portkey!"

"Ah. And who, precisely, was going to activate it?" she demanded shrewdly. Hagrid fiddled nervously with the pink umbrella. Together, Sarah thought, they made a truly ridiculous picture, the colossal man completely cowed by the much smaller, but very determined witch.

"Erm…" Hagrid mumbled something under his breath, and McGonagall's eyes flashed.

"It is fortunate, then, that I had the foresight that clearly both you and the Headmaster lack." She said acidly, but the venom in her voice was much belied by the warmth Sarah spotted in her eyes, and the gentleness of the hand she lay on Hagrid's arm (the closest part of him she could reach—it was level with the top of her hat).

Turning to face the somewhat stunned Williams family, McGonagall continued.

"If it's not too much trouble, it would be best if Miss Williams were to depart shortly. It is, after all, better to be safe than sorry."

"O-of course," said Karen, shaking herself out of her semi-stupor. "We'll only be a moment."

But when the Williams gathered around Sarah to impart last-minute words of advice, they found that they had already said everything they could. All that was left were the final farewells.

Richard was first. The proud Williams patriarch gathered his beloved daughter into his arms, and held her tight—for all he knew, this would be that last time he saw his daughter as more human than not. His eyes stung with tears left unshed, and he whispered into his firstborn child's dark hair, "I love you, Sarah."

"I know, Daddy. I love you, too."

Karen was next. Stepmother and daughter embraced, and for once they held nothing back—they embraced as equals, and as friends. "Be strong, honey. I'll talk to you soon."

"Thank you, Karen. Thank you for everything—and I'm sorry."

Toby said nothing when it was his turn, only stretched his arms out to his sister, begging silently to be held. Sarah obliged. Their farewell was one without words, but strangely, Sarah found the most comfort by gazing into his solemn, curiously aged eyes. He did not judge her, and would not, regardless of what changes she might undergo. She was his sister—his only sister. She had fought for him through dangers untold and hardships innumerable because she loved him—and thus he loved her unconditionally. He knew the sacrifices she had made for him, and he understood them with wisdom far beyond his short life. Somehow Sarah read all of this in his eyes, and as if he had reached with his warm heart and mind to soothe hers, she was soothed.

"Well, then," Sarah said. She cuddled Toby to her chest one last time before handing him to her father. She smiled shakily. "I guess this is it."

Turning to the two magical envoys that had retreated tactfully to the foyer at the start of the goodbyes, Sarah braced herself, and crossed the room.

"I'm ready," she said.

"Take hold of the bear, please." Clutched in McGonagall's outstretched hand was the filthiest stuffed animal Sarah had ever seen. Sarah grabbed the sole remaining ear, and looked up expectantly. Gathered around the scruffy, smelly stuffed animal, they made a bizarre trio. McGonagall waited a moment to ensure Sarah had a firm grip on the bear, then tapped it three times with her wand, muttering something that Sarah couldn't quite catch—and then Sarah felt a strange tug in the area behind her navel, and they were gone, whizzing round and round faster than she could think, until she could barely hold on, but it didn't seem to matter anymore because her finger seemed glued in place—and suddenly it was over. They had arrived.

"Whoa," Sarah breathed, before toppling over in a dead faint.

**Disclaimer: I own neither the Harry Potter franchise nor that of the Labyrinth. Those who do own them are monumentally more fortunate, more famous, and more mature. Nor do I place any claim on the first three chapters of this fic; they have been posted here with minor changes for the convenience of the readers with the conditional permission of the original author, papersoul, as once again detailed below:**

Author's Note: It took me forever to update this, didn't it? That was a rhetorical question. Honestly, it's too damn hard to post on this site so I'm abandoning this. These three chapters group together quite nicely as a sort of prologue to a longer arc, or they can stand alone. I think they're fine as a stand-alone but I _AM_ throwing this open to anyone who reads it with the following challenge:

Continue the story, if you so desire, but I have a few requirements. 1) Drop me a line with a story-link so I can read it. 2) Sarah has to be Sorted. 3) Give Sarah an animagical form. That's it. Have fun, kiddies!

**Let me make this very clear: In posting these three chapters, I do in no way intend to deceive. They are not mine, and I believe I have made this as easily apparent as possible. Those who believe I have written all of this fic are mistaken, but as I have yet to figure out how to reply to reviews directly, there has been no way for me to correct this misapprehension except to attempt to explain myself again here. As I have been updating with the first three chapters, I have been writing and refining MY additions to the story; my parts will be coming slowly since I do not have a great deal of time at my disposal.**

**Please, please review! And if anyone knows how to insert those horizontal page breaks, I'd love to know the secret! :)**


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